


Chelsea's College

by PrincessAmonRae



Series: Fraser Family 'Verse [3]
Category: due South
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:48:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23654872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrincessAmonRae/pseuds/PrincessAmonRae
Summary: I probably gave my hot chocolate a little too much attention while Dad was phoning it in, but now that I’d stopped crying, I’d remembered how good it had felt to get a hug from Dad. I thought of the giant manila envelope burning a hole in the bottom of my underwear drawer and felt another lurch of guilt.“I auditioned to National Ballet School,” I blurted out as soon as Dad had returned the radio to its hook. “And I got in.”“Chelsea that’s amazing!” Dad cried and I curled in further around my cup.“I found out weeks ago and I’m thinking about not going.” There was several moments of charged silence before Dad broke it.“Chelsea Ann Robertson Fraser what do you mean you’re thinking of not going?” I looked up at him, because I couldn’t remember the last time either Dad had full named me.
Series: Fraser Family 'Verse [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1653676
Kudos: 15





	Chelsea's College

_2007_

“I’m getting a little nauseous back here,” I said, half jokingly because Troy was not exactly driving in a straight line. Luanne bent down, fished something out of the bag at her feet and handed it to me. 

“Here. This will help with that,” she said, and I took the bottle on autopilot before my brain clued into the fact that it was a bottle of alcohol. 

“How’d you get this?” I asked and tried to shove the bottle back. Luanne laughed at me. 

“Troy’s cousin pulled for us,” she said, and I realized that the bottle was quite empty. 

“Wait hold up have you already been drinking?” I asked and Troy raised his hand and made a surfing hand motion at me which made the car lurch to one side. “What the fuck Stop the car!” 

“Aw Come on Chelsea don’t be such a fucking prude,” Luanne whined as Troy jerkily stopped the car and I yanked on the handle to shove the door open. 

“It’s not being a prude! It’s not being a fucking idiot!” I shouted as I slammed the car door shut. I wrapped my arms around myself as I watched them take off down the road before I spun on my heel and started walking back to town. 

It was too far to just walk home, but Dad was working a late shift and the detachment was a mere fifteen-minute walk from where I was. Worst case scenario was that I got there and Dad was on patrol and I had to convince whoever was working to let me sit in his office until he got back. 

I got lucky though because as soon as I pushed the door open to the detachment Dad’s head lifted from whatever paperwork he was looking at at the front desk. Surprised delight filtered over his face before his expression clouded with worry as he looked at me. 

“Chelsea are you alright? Where’s your coat? What are you doing here?” Dad asked and I realized that I’d forgotten my coat in the car, I was cold, and I was not alright. Dad practically leaped across the room when I started to sob, and I started crying harder as his arms came around me and I finally noticed how much distance I had accidentally put between us over the past couple of weeks. 

“I’m so sorry Dad,” I blubbered out and he looked alarmingly pale when he released me to look at me. 

“Chels, darling, are you hurt?” He spoke slowly and pointedly, like he was trying to keep me from panicking, so I sucked in a deep breath and shook my head. Some of the worry melted off his face as he led me further into the detachment to his office. He settled in me in his office chair with his handkerchief and perched on the corner of his desk in a way that reminded me of Dad. “If you want to tell me what happened that would be much appreciated. Not that I intend to force you. Only if you want.” 

I smeared the handkerchief under my eyes and started in on what happened. As soon as I finished Dad leaned forward and pressed a lingering kiss to my forehead. 

“Thank you,” Dad said softly but with great feeling, and I blew my nose slightly. 

“For what? Telling you?” I asked and Dad shook his head slowly with a deep emotion in his eyes that I couldn’t place. 

“For getting out of the car.” I gave Dad a weak smile, which he returned before he got up off the desk to wander over to his kettle. He came back with hot chocolate and I curled my fingers around the mug carefully. 

“Aren’t you going to phone it in?” I asked with a pointed look to the radio. Dad’s lip quirked up and he reached up to rub his eyebrow. 

“Only if you want. I know that your, ah, social standing is already damaged enough thanks to me,” Dad said with a self-deprecating smile. 

“My social standing sucked long before you Dad,” I said, and Dad chuckled. “I’d rather know that they aren’t on the road.” 

I probably gave my hot chocolate a little too much attention while Dad was phoning it in, but now that I’d stopped crying, I’d remembered how good it had felt to get a hug from Dad. I thought of the giant manila envelope burning a hole in the bottom of my underwear drawer and felt another lurch of guilt. 

“I auditioned to National Ballet School,” I blurted out as soon as Dad had returned the radio to its hook. “And I got in.” 

“Chelsea that’s amazing!” Dad cried and I curled in further around my cup. 

“I found out weeks ago and I’m thinking about not going.” There was several moments of charged silence before Dad broke it. 

“Chelsea Ann Robertson Fraser what do you mean you’re thinking of not going?” I looked up at him, because I couldn’t remember the last time either Dad had full named me. 

“It’s a pipe dream Dad! We both know that the odds of me actually becoming a professional dancer are basically nothing, and it’s expensive and far away! I should just stay here and do something reasonable,” I said, and Dad slowly reached down and pulled the mug out of my hands, setting it on the desk behind him and grasping my hands in his. 

“Chelsea do you know why I joined the RCMP?” 

“You wanted to maintain the right?” I guessed. “Get your man and uphold the law?” 

“I wanted my father’s approval,” Dad said. “He wasn’t around very much when I was growing up, busy maintaining the right and building up quite the reputation, and I wanted to hear him say that he was proud of me.” 

“My grandparents, who mostly raised me, didn’t whole heartedly approve of my choices, and tried to sway me, but I was much too desperate for my father’s approval to take theirs into account.” Dad squeezed my hands tightly and smiled at me. “Perhaps in another life where I didn’t want that approval so desperately, I would have gotten an English degree. Perfectly reasonable, but what would I have done with it?” 

“Um, teach?” I said because I couldn’t think of anything else you could do with an English degree off the top of my head. 

“And if I had done that, I would not have met your father, fallen in love with him, and I would not have you. I took an utterly unreasonable path and it has led me to my happiest life. And quite frankly, you living your happiest life is the only thing I care about,” Dad said firmly. 

“Okay so you’ve destroyed one of my arguments,” I muttered, and Dad chuckled softly. “What about the expensive part?” 

“You’re the sole beneficiary of your mother’s estate, which has been sitting collecting interest for four years.” Dad said it like it was fact, even though that had never occurred to me to think about. “And as you know, your Dad worked several undercover jobs with the Chicago Police Department which pay more. However, your Dad has always hated touching that money for reasons I’ll let him tell, and finally decided to split all his undercover money into four separate accounts for each of you.” 

“Dad-“ I whispered because I was starting to get choked up again. Dad smiled. 

“Of course, I have also added to each of the accounts as well, but since your Dad’s money was originally in American it’s a, ah, considerable chunk of change.” 

“What about the distance? It’s all the way in Toronto and their program runs from September to July,” I said, and Dad sighed. 

“My darling girl if you wanted your father and I would phone you every evening, fly down once a month, and fly you home the instant you got any extended breaks. Not a single one of us would stop loving you.” I sniffled again and Dad pulled me out of the chair and into his arms. “I can only speak for myself of course, but I fear missing you will ache like a gunshot wound.” 

“You say that like you know I’m going to go,” I said, and Dad laughed as he loosened his hug and reached up to gently smooth my tears away. 

“Call it a hunch. Now come on, I’ll drive you home,” he said. 

* * *

“Please tell me that there wasn’t a car accident,” Dad said as soon as we walked in the door. 

“There wasn’t an accident. Chelsea does have news though, but I’m afraid she’ll have to share it herself as I need to go back to work,” Dad said and gave Dad a kiss before dropping one on my forehead. I turned back to Dad once the door had shut and he was frowning at me carefully. 

“Aren’t you up late?” I asked and Dad blinked like he wasn’t expecting that. 

“I always stay up whenever someone’s out late, be that your father or one of you kids. God, I don’t think I slept for a week when Cass left for school,” Dad said and tapped out an uneven rhythm on his thighs. “You gonna tell me your news or leave me in suspense?” 

“Yeah just give me a second,” I said and dashed upstairs to change and grab my acceptance envelope from my drawer. I shoved it into Dad’s hands as soon as I skidded to a stop in front of him, settling down on the other couch as he pulled it open and read it. 

“Chelsea. Congratulations!” Dad said with a grin before he fixed me with a look. “I trust you haven’t been thinking of not going.” 

“How’d you know?” I asked as I ducked down to hide my blush. Dad raised an eyebrow up at me. 

“I was a detective. I detect.” He shifted to sort of lounge against the couch. “How good of a job did your Dad do of talking you into going?” 

“Pretty good,” I admitted and filled Dad in on the conversation I’d had earlier. 

“And what’s your fourth argument?” Dad asked when I’d finished and I looked at him in shock. 

“What do you mean?” He shifted again and leaned forward intensely, and I suddenly realized that this is what Dad meant when he said that Dad was the best in an interrogation room. 

“There’s something else holding you back Chels. Otherwise you would have told me you were going to the National Ballet School.” 

“Grandpa Fraser was a legend, so is Dad. There’s a legacy there and what if none of us Fraser kids carry it on?” I asked. 

“Chels you’re thinking of not going to dance school to join the RCMP?” Dad asked and I flushed slightly. 

“I just – I don’t want to disappoint either of you.” 

“Chelsea the only thing that would disappoint me is if you joined the RCMP to try and carry on some dumb legacy. If you wanted to join then I’d say go for it, but if that were the case, I’d be holding a letter from Regina, not Toronto.” Dad waved the letter pointedly at me before setting it aside and holding his arms out to me. I slid into them without hesitation. “My baby girl is going to be a famous prima ballerina.” 

“I wouldn’t go that far Dad. Maybe I’ll get there and flunk out,” I said. 

“Not a chance in Hell kiddo. I know you too well for that,” Dad said. “You know my Dad didn’t want me to be a cop?” 

“Really?” 

“Yep. He was so mad when I joined the academy that we didn’t speak for years. That hurt like Hell Chels, a kind of pain that I could never put on you. Only thing I want for you Chelsea, is for you to be happy,” Dad said, and I smiled. 

“That’s what Dad said.” 

“Yeah well you should listen to him, he’s smarter than me.” 

“Dad, I auditioned for National Ballet School and I got in and I can’t wait to go,” I whispered, and Dad smiled. 

“That’s my girl.”

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn't quite sure where I was going with this when I sat down to write it, but I'm happy with it either way!  
> Thanks for the read!


End file.
